


Farewell

by InvincibleRodent



Series: Raymond Trevelyan [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Trespasser, Prompt Fill, Trespasser Spoiler, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6219385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvincibleRodent/pseuds/InvincibleRodent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiss meme prompt #28: Last surprise kiss before I go and do something dangerous. (Liberties taken; more like last kiss before doing something dangerous + surprise)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> "The Hand That Cuts" description: "This ring grows unusually warm when slipped onto a finger. it pulses slightly and steadily, as if in time with the wearer's heartbeat."

The air was pregnant with the smell of fresh- and rotten fish, and the thick, opaque fog draped over the harbor like a silken veil. 

Boats, like unstrung beads, were scattered along the smooth surface of the dark waters- some were still tied to the piers, some cut loose, and only a few occupied by dark, thoughtful figures. The early hour had only yet chased the most dedicated of fishermen onto their feet, and here and there, as bobbers bounced blithely with each gust, an occasional shout skittered overhead.

Handfuls of passers-by -fishwives, foreign gentlemen, and rag-clad children- seemed to more drift than walk in their early morning reverie, as if oblivious to the biting, frosty drizzle that sunk into cloth and skin alike.

The solemn galleon, an ominous, oily shadow, stood tall among its playful little peers. As it rocked slowly atop the gentle waves, it most resembled a grotesque rocking horse- its masts stretched toward the clouds like an upturned spider’s spindly legs, and its sharp, Tevinter-style nose pierced the early morning mists, its head raised high and proud.

Sailors and passengers already littered its decks, shouting curt words to one another and unrolling tight coils of off-white sails. The few who were to board have already dragged their sluggish bodies aboard, and the crier whistled loudly- all but ready to leave.

Not one bystander thought to spare a second glance for the two figures locked in a tight embrace on the docks; their tall, dark frame the one stationary speck in the drifting mass of mist and morning.

Their heads rested comfortably, pressed to one another’s shoulders, and a large travel chest and two somewhat smaller bags were piled neatly by their feet- the telltale sign of a long and perilous journey ahead, of a solemn farewell.

Dorian, cloaked in heavy, formless traveling grab over his finely made robes, had both his arms coiled tightly around Ray’s ribcage, hooked under his arms- the warrior in turn struggled to wrap his one arm fully around his lover, as if in an intent to merge their bodies together, to melt their ribs into one until their hearts would truly touch.

“Try not to get yourself assassinated.” Ray murmured, his words partly muffled by the mouthful of dark gray wool bunched up in the crook of Dorian’s neck. “I would hate to declare war on the Imperium. One crippled man storming Minrathous might not be as effective as I would like.”

Dorian scoffed quietly, a mock-exasperated gesture. “Don’t even joke about that, amatus.” he quipped back “Josephine would have your head if she caught wind. And then I would have to rally the entire Imperium and lay siege to Antiva City. Mite inconvenient.”

“Wouldn’t you have to first become Archon?”

“It might take a while, but I _am_  of a vengeful sort.”

Ray gently, as if preparing himself to the idea of letting go, allowed his arm to drift low, to pool around Dorian’s waist. His fingers squeezed the leather under-armor clumsily, and with a pleased exhale, he leaned his face into the touch drifting to cup his jaw. “I’ll miss you, you know.” he said, and as if to punctuate his words, he knocked their foreheads softly together, his eyes flitting up to meet Dorian’s lidded grays.

Dorian bit both his lips in, thumbs stroking idly at the stubbled skin of his lover’s jaw. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” he sighed, and with a shake of his head, he bit the words from his own tongue, choosing to pour them into a kiss instead.

_I’d stay, if you asked._

_I know you’d ask, if you could._

“Go, before I’d beg you to stay.” Ray said finally with their shared breath, his words a plea, and gestured to the Tevinter galleon with a nudge of his chin. “Wouldn’t want to deprive them of your company for too long.”

“Oh yes, I cannot wait for my warm welcome. The Magisterium surely awaits me with bated breath.” Dorian scrunched his nose. “Part of me hopes they all suffocate by the time I’d get there..”

“That would make your job easier.” Ray gave a long, slow exhale. “Please, be careful.”

“I will. I’ll speak to you as soon as I’m there.”

“Sooner. Tonight.” he insisted “Just… let me know you haven’t been eaten by a giant squid.”

“You’re going to make me regret giving you that blighted crystal, aren’t you.”

“I might.”

Dorian’s fingers touched the bump of the magical crystal over his lover’s sternum gingerly; that touch heavier than all the words coiled around his tongue, so he said nothing. He just allowed the other’s hand to slip from his waist and curl around his, to press the mage’s palm against the thick leathers, both their eyes locked solemnly on that very spot.

“Wait.” Ray spoke suddenly, releasing Dorian’s hand at once. He clumsily shuffled through his pockets, hasty, till his gaze fell on the gleaming band around his middle finger. He worked the ring from his finger with thumb and teeth, and after a brief struggle, he held the naked piece of metal between their faces with a triumphant “hah”.

Dorian watched with a bemused not-frown as the warrior awkwardly slid the band around his middle finger. At the lack of another hand of his own, Ray clasped Dorian’s over his chest- the ring, still warm as the touch itself, seemed to throb slightly, slowly, seemingly in time with the heartbeat under Dorian’s fingers, in time with his own, their shared rhythm.

An odd feeling, and a rather unpleasant one, to think the two soon may no longer be in tune.

“Don’t worry,” Ray grinned “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet. It’s kind of a shitty ring for that anyway. I just want you to have something to wear around, too. A souvenir.”

Dorian’s lips dragged into a silent, secret smile. “I will treasure it.” his eyes flit back up from his hand, just as the harsh whistle of the crier rang sharp over the sleepy harbor. “I have to go.”

And with a last, quick kiss, he went. Dorian extracted himself from the awkward embrace, and with but a grain of reluctance slowing his steps, it was Magister Pavus who rushed, almost glided in his long robes, across the docks and up the bridge.

No more words of farewell were spoken. None were needed, because how do you speak of that which is too simple for words? How do you tell someone that it is your last breath they’ve just slipped into their pocket, and that you’re not even sure if you’ll be able to breathe until they return it?

He only looked back once, before slipping out of sight.

* * *

Ray followed the galleon with his eyes as it drifted smoothly towards the horizon. He watched it grow smaller and smaller, until it was the size of a toy- the sun’s rays painted the white tarp a pretty pastel tangerine, and the masts scratched gently at the pink and purple bellies of the cloud tufts, where sea and sky bled into one.

With the morning frost letting up, it was to be a lovely day.

Finally, the toy shrunk into nonexistence as if it was but a paper boat swallowed up by the sea, and where its imposing figure once stood, there was now naught but vast openness and ten types of turquoise as far as the eye could see.

And that was goodbye. One of many, and there were many to come still, but Ray couldn’t help but feel this was somehow final, somehow formal. This was, after all, the last time he had embraced Dorian, and the first time he let go of a Magister; the first time the word ‘farewell’ braided itself into his breath and squeezed his jaws shut before he could have said it.

Dorian must know what he meant, Ray thought. He must know. He always does. Even when words elude him, when sophistication falls short and frustration ties his tongue, Dorian knows exactly what he means- he must know what that silence means, too.

An elbow nudged Ray’s hip, yanking him out of his entranced contemplation.

“Ready to go?” Varric’s voice called, ringing softer than usual, and the dwarf poked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards the two, sad and abandoned bags left on the murky planks. Ray’s eyes finally drifted from the empty horizon to his friend’s face, and his lips drew into a lopsided smirk.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m ready. Kirkwall won’t burn itself to the ground, will it.”

Varric only gave a short, easy chuckle. “It might, unless we get going.”

Not one soul paid any mind to the mismatched pair, not until the carriage door slammed shut behind them, and the coach let out a sharp shout to urge the horse to a loose canter.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [a tumblr](http://www.weresquirrel.tumblr.com) , in case anyone is interested! :) Prompts and feedback are always welcome!


End file.
